Sometimes I feel motherhood is a constant swing between fear and boredom. Case in point: Holy shit! My kid’s got the swine flu! Oh, it’s not so bad. Everybody go back to school/work/routine. Nothing to see here, folks.

And so relief gives way to restlessness. Used to be when I felt like this, I’d shake things up with big moves: new city, new job, new house. Once even a new man. But at this stage in the game, a major shake up would shake not just me, but the little ones who depend on me to be predictable and safe, day after day after day. Nope, I have to be Stable with a capital S. In Constistency We Trust. Dull is good.

So it’s plug away, grind, plod. Until something else comes along to scare me to death. Then I’ll pray, “Dear God, could we please go back to boring?”